Mine, And Mine Only
by xXThat-Other-HobbitxX
Summary: A continuation to FRODO.exe. After her kidnapping, Kirsten is taken to Frodo.exe's dark kingdom and crowned his queen. Will she ever find her way home, or will she suffer at the hands of the one person she's loved all her life? Some chapters are slightly more intense than others, fair warning.
1. Awake

**Yeah, a continuation of ! Thanks to 2 good fans of my story, I have decided to continue what happens to Ms. Kirsten Scholtes, who was unceremoniously dragged away from her life by a virus-ridden game sprite of Frodo Baggins. Frightful landscapes, twisted character designs, one-sided, dark romance, torment, and violence shall ensue!**

**I dedicate this story to my loyal followers, daddys-number-1-girl and kesha379. Hope you guys all like it!  
I also do not own any "Lord of the Rings" characters or places, or the concept of . I only own and the others concepts, and Kirsten.**

**Black.**

That was all I saw at the moment, pure black, with the words 'hello darkness, my old friend' practically etched into my mind. My heart was beating fast, like a rabbit eloped from a field totting carrots. Sweat poured profusely down my temples, and I could feel my cheeks becoming hotter with every passing second. All I could do was pray to anyone in the heavens who'd listen that all that had happened was a bad dream, a nightmare fueled from too much creepypasta and an overdose of _Lord of the Rings_, if there was such a thing.

And then I heard him. I heard his voice. The voice of an angel, straight from the pits of whatever hell existed beneath the Earth. He was talking to me, beckoning me to wake up, open my eyes, anything. I didn't want to, but morbid curiosity pushed me to it.

I awoke. I looked. I hated the sight.

Frodo was there. Well, not really Frodo: More like demonic style. He looked exactly like Elijah Wood, but instead, his hair was a deep coal black, his skin as pale as paper. His eyes were not the beautiful blues I had come to know and love, no, they were black, a deep, dark, chilling black, with only a small ruby dot in the middle, shining out with a sort of attention and attraction I despised immediately. He was garbed in a white shirt and gray vest, black breeches, an elaborate gray-green cloak, and a silvery crown that resembled a tangle of thorns.

"You're awake at last," He grinned to me. When he did so, I could see that they were like a shark's teeth, sharp and dangerous.  
"I want to apologize for scaring you tonight," He spoke, as I curled up into a fearful ball. "Not exactly a ceremonious way of bringing you here for the wedding, but it was a last-minute option. I blame paranoia and horniness-I MEAN love."

"WEDDING?!" I shrieked in horror, as I looked down and finally noticed the little ring on my finger.  
"Do you like it?" He asked innocently, as I stared at the engagement ring in shock. "I couldn't decide if silver or gold was better, so I went with a mix. And I also got the gem to match your birthstone…"

I was still numb with shock from the whole wedding prospect. "We're getting married?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.  
"Oh, you didn't know? Sorry, I forget to mention that, love. I mean, I set it for today at 5, which gives us 2 good hours before we have to get there, which I am not complaining about, I mean, I already know everything about you, but I'm still so very fascinated!"

"WHAT?" I cried out at the words "know everything about you".  
merely chuckled at my shock as he pulled me into an embrace, which unnerved me greatly. He pulled me up to his chest, as he stroked my hair all the way down my back, occasionally leaning down and kissing my head. I shivered, and he noticed, wrapping his cloak around me.

"I've been watching you for several months now," He explained, while I quietly whimpered in fear within his surprisingly strong embrace. "I found you when you sent for that bracelet with me and my friends portraits on it, and by the Valar, I have never seen a more beautiful woman in all of my life. I had tried to contact several other girls before meeting you, but they were nowhere near as stunning and clever as you."

I swallowed hard as he continued.

"I continued to lust after you, following you across the Internet, making every attempt to contact you. I sent you reviews for your stories on Fanfiction, hoping we could talk a little, I emailed you on your Wiki account, I commented on your YouTube channel. I always left your videos on, so your videos could bring me comfort as I slept."

I blinked with confusion: The videos I uploaded onto YouTube were creepy games based on various creepypastas (And I had screamed quite a few times during the gameplay). I tried thinking of anyone who sounded sketchy to me who had emailed me. Then I remembered: _Middle-EarthBound666. _Could that have been ?

"I thought all hope had been lost of talking to you: I couldn't find your number, I didn't know your address or your favorite places outside, in your world, or your phone number. But finally, I saw you on EBay again, looking for something new. So I packaged myself away in my game, made an offer you could never refuse, and soon enough, I was in your hands."

He then leaned down and whispered into my ear:  
"I loved the way you fondly caressed my game box. Made me a little excited, dear, and before our wedding? Mmm, I could tell you're the playful sort. I could barely restrain myself when I came to get you." With that, he licked my ear with his long, reptilian tongue.

Somewhere in the house, the clock struck loudly, making look up suddenly.  
"Son of an Orc," he growled. "One hour to go. Well, either way, we better get you ready for our big day, hmm, love? I'll be out in the garden, waiting while you get spruced up. Your dress is behind the door in the bathroom. Rosie and Arwen did a real nice job of finding you a nice gown to wear today. I will see you…"

He paused to plant a kiss on my cheek.

"At the altar," He finished, leaving me alone and distraught. **  
**


	2. The Wedding

**Yes, the next chapter! Thank you, those who are following this faithfully, and are patient enough to wait while I get over this suck-butt cold I just got *Sniffle* Now, on with the show!**

**A/N: I actually do not have a YouTube account **

As soon as I was sure Frodo had left, I burst into tears of horror and painful suffering: I had innocently bought a game based on something I loved, been freaked the hell out by the game, was kidnapped from my home and dragged somewhere foreboding and was being forced to marry the one person I'd always dreamed of marrying, but now that he was so disturbed and twisted, I would refuse.

After drying my eyes, I headed into the bathroom to search for the dress. Finding it where Frodo said, I studied it for a moment: It was a nice little thing, a corset-like top, ruffled bottom, all with little Elvish runes sewn onto it. There was even a pair of small shoes to go with it.

Making sure I wasn't being watched, I slowly peeled away my pajamas, consisting of a _Pokemon _t-shirt and some black leggings. I studied myself in the mirror as I combed my hair down, making it a little smoother than earlier: I did look nice. I really did. Shame it was all going to waste with my husband-to-be.

I found a small wooden box on the sink counter, engraved with the words, _"For The Queen of My Heart" _on it. Curiosity getting the better of me, I opened it, only to find a beautiful crown, adorned with an infinity of miniscule diamonds. It looked familiar to me, and I was right, judging from the note beneath the crown. It read:

"_This crown once belonged to Czarina Alexandra of Russia, wife of Czar Nicholas Romanoff, and mother of Anastasia Romanoff. I took the liberty of obtaining it from a Russian museum in Moscow a few days before sending myself to you. I hope you like it.  
Love always,  
Frodo"_

I sighed miserably, but placed the crown on nonetheless. Picking up a bouquet of flowers from the vase, I quietly exited the room and continued down the hall, taking my time as little beads of sweat continued to drop. _The Wedding March_ was pounding in my ears, louder and louder as I turned and made my way to where the wedding was taking place.

The entire room was like a furnace, filled with scarlets and violent shades of orange and yellow. As I walked down the aisle, I looked at all those attending the wedding.  
Oh, dear God in heaven, it was horrible to see it. Every character I knew and loved from my childhood were now in EXE form, with black, white, or gray hair, with white skin and those terrifying black and red eyes. All of the characters. The Fellowship, many background hobbits from the Shire, Thorin and Company somehow or other, even a young Bilbo, looking like a demented mirror image of Martin Freeman from the movie.

And there at the end, waiting for me with a horribly cheerful smile was Frodo, Sam by his side as his best man. Sam was the one person that made me want to cry the hardest: His hair had gone a complete snow white, as had his skin, and his eyes were black and red as well, like the others, but because it was Samwise Gamgee, the gardener who did better than any bodyguard ever would, the hobbit who gave up his life in the Shire to help his best friend, who was like a brother to him, save the world, and now looking dead and yet happy, I wanted to cry so bad. But I held my tears in as I took my spot by Frodo, and the ceremony began.

The one marrying us was Gandalf, still looking dark, but I tried to ignore this as he continued to speak, talking about how much Frodo and I loved one another, and why there was no reason we shouldn't wed.  
Finally, he came to the vows, Frodo going first. He smiled at me, his dark eyes full of uncontrollable joy as he said, and "I most certainly do."  
Now it was my turn. I opened my mouth and began, "I do-"

"Then by the powers vested in me by the Valar, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride." Gandalf finished, and in a flash, Frodo swept me up in his arms and into a full, romantically horrid kiss. The sound of the others cheering went deaf to my ears as Frodo allowed me to breathe, gazing wistfully into my eyes like a lovesick schoolboy.

"I adore you so much, darling," He smiled, embracing me once more.

The reception came quickly, full of dancing and drinking and multiple congrats from characters I had always dreamed of talking to, but never would get the chance to speak to the real ones. Sam was especially happy, disappearing for a few seconds before returning with not only a big bouquet of roses for me, but also, a nasty looking cut across his forehead, staining the white with a deep red.

"Whoa, Sam, what happened there?" Frodo inquired, raising his eyebrow as Sam touched his forehead, as if finally noticing the blood. "Oh, I was looking for the clippers for the roses, and found it was stuck. When I pulled it out, it came towards me pretty fast. I didn't notice the blood."  
"Let me get that," Frodo spoke, placing 2 fingers to the corner of the injury. Immediately, it healed up, as if the cut had never been there. Sam thanked his friend, and after some idle chatter, the party began to break up. My new husband thanked everyone who came, before leading me back to our bedroom. Once inside, he slowly shut the door with a small smirk on his face that grew into a few grin.

"So, my darling ithildin," He chuckled darkly, as I began to slowly move away. "What's the tradition for a couple on their wedding night?"  
I swallowed hard, as my face turned a deep shade of flaming pink. "To have sex on their wedding night…"  
I wish I didn't say anything at all, for Frodo proceeded to force me down and undress me and himself, still grinning that malicious Cheshire grin. He talked dirty through the whole process, commenting with the naughtiest of terms while I fought back the scream welling up inside of me. "HELP!" I wanted to scream. "HELP ME SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE" The words were flashing before my eyes, but I knew no one would come to my aid. They were all on Frodo's side.

And that night, after Frodo had a quick smoke of his pipe and had praised me greatly, I lay in the bed quietly, not sleeping, but letting small, pained tears fall down my face, as I slowly and gently cried myself to sleep.


	3. Morning

When I woke up the next morning, I found that I was alone. All alone. Frodo wasn't there at all. It was only me.  
Excitement and hope rose in my heart as I leapt out of bed and pulled on my underwear and pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, there was some kind of exit door that would throw me back out into my universe. If that happened, I'd throw away my computer and that game: Smash 'em, burn 'em, anything to wreck them.

I had just grabbed a blanket and bundled it around me when the bedroom door opened, and Frodo entered, followed closely by a short, hunched-over Orc, looking bone-thin and decrepit as he followed the king, carrying a large silver platter with a cover over it. He slowly set it down on my bedside table, and then made every full attempt to get away from us.

"Good morning, my love," Frodo smiled, as I watched the little green critter hobble away as fast as his skinny li'l legs could carry him. "You certainly slept well."  
"What time-"I began, but all I had to do was look at the clock and realize it was 9:05, the time I'd be at work. At home in Portland, I worked at Claire's Accessories inside the Pioneer Square Mall, seeing as it was the only job I could get at the time. The girls there were as bitchy as I'll get out, but it was close, and the pay was fairly reliable. My co-workers never understood why I turned up at work sometimes wearing a nametag that read "SHAUN" on it.

"Yeah, I'll have to be at work in 25 minutes, but that gives us a little time," He shrugged, taking the cover off to reveal 2 steaming plates of hot strawberry pancakes, toast and some small jelly packets, and a glass of cold milk. My stomach growled in anticipation as Frodo handed me a plate and the glass of milk. Quickly, I began to eat. As I did, Frodo flipped on the flat screen TV, which was placed on top of the dresser in front of the bed. Instantly, the news flipped on, talking about the search for me back home. They, for some reason, believed I was near a river or lake or something.

"Idiots," Frodo chuckled softly as I tried not to cry for my friends and family at home. As I bit into my toast, Frodo checked the clock, groaned a little, and then proceeded to give me kisses on the cheek.

"I've got to go to work, love," He explained, slowly licking crumbs from the corner of my mouth. "But I'll be home quickly, and we can cuddle up and watch a movie. Your pick."  
I decided to nod in agreement, seeing as I'd be doing it forever now. Frodo smiled, clapped his hands for the Orc to come take our breakfast plates away, and squeezed me a hug.  
"Don't worry, Kirsten," He told me as I reached for the remote subconsciously. "I know you'll miss me, but I'll be gone for only a little bit of time. Be back before you know it." With that, he kissed me again, and then hurried out the door, leaving me alone once more.

**A/N: The "SHAUN" nametag is a poke at the movie, **_**"Shaun of the Dead" **_**with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. There will be plenty more chapters AND references soon!**


	4. Crying

Days soon began to go like this: Frodo would leave for "work" (Which I soon discovered was commanding the armies of men, elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, wargs, the occasionally hobbit, and a very temperamental cave troll), and I would be left to my own essential devices until he came home, where we would have dinner and watch some TV or a movie. Sometimes, we'd have a massive screening of a movie out in a good-sized living room, the Fellowship in attendance, and on occasion, Bilbo. From these screenings, I got a better look at the now-possessed Fellowship.

Sam was still Frodo's gardener, and lives in his house close by with Rosie (Also an EXE) and their brood of children, all of whom address Frodo as their uncle, and now, me as their aunt. They are a simple delight, honestly, and Rosie is a very kind person, one of my few friends here in .

Merry and Pippin are as rambunctious as ever, but now with a dash of modern tech, they wreck even more havoc than before. Merry, however, isn't as nearly as troublesome as Pippin, who has been under the angry eye of Gandalf recently, for messing with his staff and causing a 5-hour riot due to a miscellaneous hailstorm of Pokeballs. Thus, Gandalf was a little more than pissed. And let me tell you, Pippin can't keep a secret to save his life, another reason why Gandalf's so angry at him. He actually asked Frodo to sew his cousin's mouth shut, and when he refused, the Grey Pilgrim decided to go do it himself. Didn't last long mind you, but Gandalf was at least a little happier from the silence that came from it.

Speaking of which, Gandalf was now Frodo's royal advisor (Which may be why Gandalf "advised" Frodo to shut Pippin up), and new head of the White . Saurman and his lackey, Grima Wormtongue, were murdered by Frodo when he built , and Sauron died from the complications of the torture Frodo brought upon him as revenge. Gandalf refuses to change to "Gandalf The White", thinking it gives him too much power, and prefers to stay ol' Gandalf the Grey.

Aragorn is now king of , with Arwen as his queen. Seeing as EXE's don't particularly age, there were no worries when they got together. Frodo, in fact, gave Gondor to Aragorn as a token of gratitude for saving his life on Weathertop. The 2 kings still hang out, and when they're not discussing their kingdoms, have little sword practices out on the front lawn. Arwen's very kind as well, and is my other friend here.

Boromir, to my surprise, isn't dead: He's now captain of the army of Men Frodo has control over. He's still an archetypical man of Gondor: Doesn't mean to, but still wants the Ring.  
Yes, Frodo kept the One Ring of Power, molding it into his own object and riding it of possessive evil after Sauron's death. It still can make him invisible (A very worrying thing to me, since his primary use of it involves goosing me when I can't see him), but the color went from a pure, striking gold to a shining, glossy silver, almost a pure white. Boromir has asked Frodo several times if he could "borrow" the Ring whilst heading into battle, just for that time, but Frodo can see through him, and refuses each time. His brother, Faramir, is with Eowyn as well, and the 2 are assistants to Aragorn and Arwen in .

Legolas does well as me and Frodo's official bodyguard: Still skilled with bows, arrows, and what look like ninja knives, you never really can tell where Legolas is before he strikes: I saw him training once, and it was something to remember if you're going to see the king and queen. However, he is extremely loyal, and has never accepted a bribe in his life. He and Gimli also have constant arguments over whose better at which job, and have tests to see if one could do better at the other.

Speaking of Gimli, he's the captain of the Dwarf army now, and is very proud of his position. One issue though: His eyes were torn out by some mystery figure that is still on the run from Frodo and the others. His eyelids were sewn closed, and must rely on his other senses to tell him where he is and who he's talking to.  
When I saw this injury, I cringed, but Frodo told me all of the EXE's have sustained similar wounds: Sam's stomach is sewn closed to keep his internal organs inside (I cry at this), Merry and Pippin's arms and legs have to be kept in place, Gandalf's jaw has stitches in places, Aragorn's heart was nearly cut out of him, Legolas's upper and lower half are sewn together from an effect with a medieval torture rack, and of course, Gimli's eyes were sewn shut.

Frodo's injury was his back, which was covered in long scratches, deep and soaked with dried blood. This came from a computer virus that attacked him after he gained self-awareness. The virus is dead now, he told me, but I'm still not sure…

Either way, life here in is quiet and easy. But I don't care: I want to go home to my family and friends, get away from this place. When I get home, IF I ever get home, I'll probably need extensive therapy and counseling, maybe even medical help. I hurt a lot nowadays, not just from the headaches I get and the endless pangs of pain in my chest, but from a very different king of pain, the pain that comes after me and Frodo's nights together. While he enjoys rambunctious, noisy, hard and fast sex, I wish I wasn't his object of affections all the time. I just have to lay there and be submissive while he dominates me endlessly.

But of course, he acts like I love him: He's cast himself into the belief I'm just playing with him, teasing him in some sort of way. I can't understand it at all, but I hate it either way. He showers me with gifts and affections I don't want, gives me everything I could ever want or need, anything to keep me close. He's always kissing on me and holding me too close for comfort, commenting on the way I look, any number of things. He actually went to Earth and got me something from the Disney store at Washington Square Mall, a staple of my childhood: A little statue of the cartoon Ichabod Crane from _The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad_. The memories of watching the movie endlessly, from VHS to DVD, remembering the old tunes, which now played on the little models base, it was hard for me not to cry. I wanted to cry alone, but Frodo would have none of that. He pulled me into his arms, shushing me, stroking my hair, kissing my tears away, drinking them like wine. I wanted to push him away, shove him off the bed, tell him to stop, anything, but I was too caught up in my tears and weak from crying that I just went limp there, sniffling and breathing ragged breaths, while my new husband held me close, knowing I'd never leave him.


	5. Not Even Needlemouse

I awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and an empty stomach: I blame sobbing and not eating dinner.  
Rubbing my sore eyes and throbbing temples, I stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom, glancing back, only to see Frodo still asleep, sniffing and making small noises like an animal on the prowl.

Entering the bathroom, I opened the cabinet to see if there was any aspirin for me to take. There was, and I did so, but not before I realized how I looked.

I was a full-fledged EXE: My skin had paled down even further than before (I didn't even think THAT was possible), my auburn hair looked as though it had been shaded into a deeper color, and my eyes were just as dank and black as Frodo's. However, I realized that my pupils weren't red like the rest of them, they were my old green eyes, except a little lighter.

"By The Valar! Being an EXE suits you, my dear!" Frodo had suddenly appeared behind me, and I screamed at the sight of him: Not just because he startled me, but because 4, slimy, wet black tentacles were now protruding from his back, in a way similar to Slenderman. I clutched the sink in fright as Frodo began to laugh.

"I just got these last night! Pretty cool, right? I'll only have them, but I can retract them if they bother me!" He grinned, while I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down.  
"Why…" I began, as Frodo got over his tentacle-hubris moment. "The fuck…do my eyes…look like yours?"  
"Oh! Um, heheh," He began nervously, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, uh, I didn't convert you the way I did the others, so that options ruled out, so, um…"  
"What?"  
"Well…I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but…my, oh, Gods, how should I put this…?" He mumbled, as I stared at him expectantly.

"My sperm isn't white, it's black due to the virus. It probably caused you to become an EXE like me." He stated bluntly at last. I gawked at him with this information for what felt like 5 minutes before I shouted:  
"YOU MEAN EVERY TIME WE HAD SEX YOU INFECTED ME WITH SOME VIRUS? WHAT THE HELL, FRODO?" With that said, I was fully prepared to sock him in the jaw with all my might, thoughts of the life he stole from me fueling my rage.

My fist didn't even connect: Frodo swiftly dodged it, as if knowing I was going to strike him, and picked me up in his arms, kissing me on the cheek.  
"At least it didn't destroy your eyes," He told me, gazing into my face with a lovelorn look.  
"I love your eyes."

After Frodo left for work, I decided to go onto his PC (A computer within a computer? What is this, INCEPTION? THE MATRIX? I don't know) and see what sort of files he kept on it. Of course, it was password blocked, but it was a no-brainer what it was, happening to be my own name. Immediately after pressing enter, an image of me in a one-piece swimsuit came up as his background, and I was so pissed off by it, I flipped the bird to my own image: How the hell did he get that picture? All my images were on my computer at home, this one taken during Spring Break when I was in my penultimate year of college, at Seaside, Oregon. Curious, I opened up his pictures file, and was taken aback by what I saw.

I saw me. EVERYWHERE, I saw me: Pictures from my first days of kindergarten, all leading up to my college and working days. Every known and unknown picture of me filled the screen, dated and named. How he knew was beyond me, honestly, but it frightened me greatly. Heading back, I opened his video files, only to find all of my YouTube videos, plus videos me and my friends took with my old Sony cam when we were teenagers, carefree and stupid. These were dated as well, all from when they were taken and uploaded. Returning again, I opened the documents file.

Infinite. That was the only word to describe the number of documents he had typed up, all of them filled with him proclaiming his love for me, telling me how much he needed me, how I was necessary for his survival, he was dying without me.  
It was official: Frodo was my number one stalker. I had read and seen stories of twisted people following their desires to the ends of the Earth, but this person, this CREATURE, somehow knew me from childbirth on, even though the LOTR books came out long before my parents were even born, and I was only a year old when The Fellowship of the Ring came out.

Exiting the file, I hopped aboard the Internet and looked up SEGA's official site. Hacking a little further in (The whole place was naturally slathered with Sonic the Hedgehog), I found a file on some games that never made the final cut. Scrolling down, I found the Lord of the Rings one, and clicked on it, only for a tale to unfold.

It talked about how WETA and New Line Cinemas offered SEGA to make a Fellowship of the Ring game based off the movie, for the PC and some SEGA platforms. Instantly, SEGA got to it and developed all the sprites, all of the landmarks and necessary items and places, and developed some music to go along with, all based off the movie.

However, they only got the Rivendell part, and abandoned it afterwards, due to Sonic's popularity. The game that was released in '99 was Sonic the Hedgehog: Pocket Adventure, and as a result, the game and all the files were abandoned.  
Soon after Pocket Adventures was released, there was a fire, and the original file for Sonic, entitled "Project NEEDLEMOUSE" was destroyed. They also found gruesome images of the Sonic characters mangled to death, all of them hyper-realistic, but still in that SEGA style.

I sighed as I shut down the Internet and the computer, shaking my head: Abandoned by SEGA, replaced by a cocky blue hedgehog. No wonder he was so clingy.  
I then lounged for the rest of the time being, watching a few movies before Frodo came home. Immediately, after giving me greetings and bringing me in for too-hard of a kiss, he booted up the computer, and I was sure he'd realize I had been on there.

In fact, he didn't: He was downloading something I didn't want to know about, and as he did so, he chattered to me cheerfully, talking about something I could barely hear. I was too busy paying attention to the new broadcast, which still spoke of my disappearance. Somebody had been arrested, a guy I gave money to once, outside of work. He had followed me into the mall and all the way to Clair's, but he left after I went inside. Frodo laughed at the man's misfortune, as he strolled over to the bed and crawled up next to me, making small, happy noises as he nuzzled my cheek and neck.

"Nothing stands in the way of our love," He told me, whispering in my ear.  
"Not even Needlemouse."


	6. Wants and Needs

I'm still getting used to life in : While I remain cooped up in my bedroom by choice, the rest of the people who inhabit the castle and the surrounding areas have been trying their hardest to make me feel at home: They've cooked all of my favorite meals, gotten me new clothes with designs I've always dreamed of, given me movies and games I never dreamt of having, anything and everything is at my fingertips.

But still I mourn. Still I cry. Still I wait out on the balcony and look up at the pixeled stars and hope for someone, anyone to find me and rescue me, take me home to my mom and dad, and my best friends and my cats and my own bed that I can lay in, alone, and not have some demonic game sprite beside me, breathing hard as he runs his rough hands over my side, making noises of lust and want, whispering the worst things imaginable in my ear, asking me to do things even the most desperate whores and prostitutes would do. I don't know why he thinks it's fine, a normal thing for couples to do. Normal couples make love, not force one to remain under the other in a way of control.

Lately, Frodo's been wanting more and more attention every night, and getting more, in his opinion, creative. He drags out items I never even dreamed of having used on me, so-called toys that bring the most painful kind of pleasure. And he's reckless as well, acting like he's forgotten to wear a condom or anything like that.

It went like this last night: Frodo was his typical dominant self, drooling hot black liquid on me while I squealed helplessly beneath him, unable to move from the great strength he possessed.  
And then I noticed he wasn't wearing a condom. Obviously, I knew his plan and shrieked like a banshee and finally did the thing I'd been wanting to do since I first woke up here: Kick him in the nuts.

Frodo went tumbling off the bed, clutching his manhood (Hobbithood? I don't know) while I gathered up the blankets and pulled them around me, yelling at him angrily that I wouldn't stand for this. Turning on the bedside lamp, I saw that Frodo was actually in pain for once. Whenever I actually did hit him, or claw or bite or anything, he took it as being playful. Now, his black and red eyes were actually watering with real tears forming at the corners, and he bit his tongue to keep from shouting in pain.

"Kirsten," He moaned weakly, in a high, almost comical voice that made me laugh happily inside. "I was gonna tell you…"  
"What? That you planned to impregnate me with some demon spawn? When hell freezes over!" I yelled, as he slowly began to crawl back up the sheets, still holding that injured spot between his legs. Slowly pulling himself back into bed, I scooted away, my arms folded and refusing to look at him.

"Kirsten," He said. I didn't look.  
"Kirsten." Still didn't.  
"Please, Kirsten, look at me. I didn't mean to upset you, I didn't at all. Please, PLEASE, Kirsten: Just look at me."

I sighed and turned to him, still glaring. It was hard to maintain it though, he was giving me the sort of look a puppy gives you when you don't pay attention to it. I groaned and growled: "What?"  
He sighed, and tried to put his arms around me. I pulled away, and he retracted his arms, still looking hurt.  
"I just want to have a happy life, you know? After my abandonment, and the virus, I thought thing's couldn't get better at all. But when I started to rebuild my home, and bring my friends back, I began to feel better: No more Sauron, no more evil ring, no more Ringwraiths, nothing. Life was good.  
But then I wanted a woman in my life, a woman to stay by my side through thick and thin, one who I could love as the day is long. Sure, there were plenty of young, eligible women who would die if their king asked for their hand, but none caught my eye. And I didn't want to make my own bride, no, it is the Valar's will to create people. So I looked and I looked, and sure enough, I found you. I felt even better when I kissed you at the altar, knowing you were mine, and mine only. I knew that since our hearts and souls had mated, nothing could tear me away from you.  
And now…I think there's one more thing I'm missing right now."  
"What?" I asked, in spite of my anger against him.

"I'd like to have a baby."

"WHAT?" I shrieked, nearly prepared to fall out of bed. "NO! NOT NOW! TOO EARLY! TOO EARLY!"  
"Oh, um, okay…" He spoke shyly, pulling the blankets closer to him. "We can wait a little while. I'm a patient man. Good night, my dearest." He then kissed my cheek, shut off the light, and went to sleep. I was surprised to by how easy it was to tell him no. Shrugging, I pulled the covers close to myself, and went to sleep.

All too easy.

The next morning, I woke up with one unpleasant stomachache. Almost immediately after awaking and groaning a little from it, I launched myself to the bathroom and proceeded to hack up last night's dinner. As I continued to toss my cookies, I noticed Frodo in the doorway, watching me with a tiny laugh.

"Not feeling well, darling? I feel great!" He grinned, while I shot him the dirtiest look I could think of. Suddenly, a sudden wave of fear flooded me, as I looked down at myself, seeing as I was still naked from last night.

Oh, SHIT.  
I'm pregnant, aren't I?


	7. Home At Last?

I didn't speak to Frodo for 2, almost 3 days after I made sure I really was pregnant: During that silent time, Frodo called in the finest doctors in the realm to check on me, making sure me and the baby were healthy and happy. Healthy, yes, happy, no.

And while I was being carefully watched over, my husband gathered the best carpenters, sewing masters, painters and decorators, all those sorts of people to come and decorate the baby's room. The room was right next to our own, a barren but large room, and soon enough was being repainted, cleaned up, carpeted, and fully decorated. I didn't do much, I just rubbed my swollen belly and watched silently while Frodo directed them around.

Speaking of which, Frodo was very excited at the prospect of being a father: He gathered several massive books on parenting and caring for babies, toddlers and children, and looked around the shops for toys and dolls for our future child. He bought many plush dolls, but some creeped me out, like the Pikachu Z doll that resembled the one from that one creepypasta, POKEMON DEAD CHANNEL. He also got an eyeless Sally Acorn plush (He ripped the eyes out personally), and a doll looking too much like the Tails Doll from Sonic R.

Soon enough, the room was near completion. The plush dolls were all up on a shelf by the baby's crib (Which had a print reminiscent of the MISSINGNO sprite), a little dresser full of baby clothes, and a rocking chair in the corner. The walls were a light blue shade (Despite Frodo's hope that the baby would be a girl), and the carpet was a light blue as well. We also settled on a name after the ultrasound, Thorn Rose, Thorn, a female equivalent to the name "Thorin" (And also the company that produced the old LOTR cartoon), and Rose, after one of my best friends' middle names. Frodo, of course, flew into a joyful mood when he found out the baby was a girl, and was going nuts over the thought of having a "little princess".

Well, what do I have to say about being pregnant?  
I guess I'm happy: I've always wanted to have a family, a little child to call my own, to have and to hold, to raise. I've always been good with children, which gives me hope I can raise the baby right. I'm unsure though, about raising a baby in this twisted world: What will they become?

The next morning, Frodo came over to me with a little list in hand, and a small smile on his face.  
"Oh, darling?"  
"Hmm?" I ask through a mouthful of Cookie Crisps, my most recent craving.

"Well, there are a couple of things left on the list I'd like to get for the baby, and I know we can't get them anywhere else except for one place:  
Your world."

I almost spit out all of my cereal in shock.  
"WHAT?"

"I know, I know, it'll be hard going back to your world when you're so used to mine, but I want to see if I can snag them for the due date. I mean, I can just grab them myself-"  
"No!" I cry, placing my bowl on the table and leaping (Sort of) to my feet before planting a kiss on his cheek. "I'll go get dressed."

Leaving Frodo bewildered from my enthusiasm and my sudden affectionate kiss, I grab some clothes and enter the bathroom, quickly getting dressed: This just might be my only chance to get home to my family and friends, and leave Frodo and all that behind. Plus, maybe our baby won't be so messed up like him! I grin as I pull on my shoes and exit, seeing him waiting.

"Ready?" He asks, and I grin.

Yes.  
Ready to go home.


	8. Disbelief

The ride was pleasant enough, I suppose: After changing our skin tones and eyes back to normal, we exited via a dark room I was unsure where it was stationed, and immediately appeared before a very large and extraordinarily fancy Rolls Royce. I'd hear of them, I'd seen them on TV, but I had never ever expected to ride in one, but Frodo just shot me a smile as we entered the vehicle and drove off.

Oh, God, seeing my home again: The real sunlight shining down on my face again, the smell of summer wafting through the air, the sight of songbirds passing by, only to disappear and be replaced by a handful of unblinking black birds who litter the malls parking lot.  
And of course, Washington Square had not changed: It was still a beautiful silver masterpiece of architecture, mixed with golds, coppers and bronzes all over the place. Joy filled my heart and mind as I looked around, seeing that all my favorite shops hadn't changed a bit since my time in the computer. Frodo smiled at my enthusiasm, but kept me on track, which I disliked. God, I couldn't wait to get away from him and free myself from his gaze.

This was a difficult task though. If I ever so much as strayed a bit from him, he pulled me right back to show me something, or hold onto my hand until it became sore from his squeezing. All I could really do was smile and nod, following him while rubbing my swollen stomach: The baby kicked when Frodo came close with an object for our child, and I suppose she enjoyed it, because she could kick. HARD.

Pretty soon, cravings began kicking in, so Frodo bought us a big, buttery pretzel for us to share. The memory of having these warm, messy snacks for the first time flashed painfully before my eyes while Frodo savored the treat, licking his hands joyously.  
As we finished our food, still walking around, someone called out to us. Turning back, we saw a bubbly black-haired woman behind a light blue kiosk beckoning for us to come over, probably shilling a product off, but curious nonetheless, Frodo took me over to see what she had to offer.

"How pregnant are you, ma'am?" She inquired, as I glanced down unconsciously, a bit flustered. "Uh, 4, almost 5 months."  
"Well, I think you'll like this!" She grinned, dragging out a wild-looking contraption, looking like a boombox, but not quite, complete with headphones and 4 discs.  
"You can talk to your baby and explain how life is in the world, and, if you play classical music for the baby, studies show that 71% of babies become musical or mathematical geniuses!" **(A/N: I don't know these statistics, they're probably a lie right here :P)**

I groaned inwardly: Even before becoming pregnant, I never believed in trying to turn your kid into the next Einstein by teaching them stuff far earlier than usual. Really, I never liked it, and I never would.  
Frodo didn't seem to like it either: When she offered me the headphones (Which were already blaring Mozart), Frodo pushed them away.

"Yeah, a nice gesture, but we don't want any electronic interference before the baby's born," He said, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist.  
"But, then you can cut down spending time teaching your baby how to walk and talk and all that!" She explained, seeming all too desperate to sell her product. But when she said that, Frodo looked absolutely appalled.

"Babies have to learn from their parents, and what they teach them shapes who they are, not some machine telling them what sounds better, according to some statistic! No, don't say another word, we are leaving now."  
As we turned to leave, she spoke up:  
"Hey, you look a lot like that girl, that girl that disappeared a while ago…"

The color literally drained from Frodo's face, almost reverting him back to his EXE form (I could see his teeth becoming longer and sharper again, the black growing over the white of his eyes, and his blue irises turning back to red), but he disregarded it, pulled me even closer, and began to carefully pick up speed.  
"Don't answer, or we'll have every Tom, Dick and Harry hounding us from here to Gondor," He hissed, and a little slimmer of hope rose in my heart: Could the police actually arrest Frodo? I hoped to God they could.

And just mere minutes after thinking that thought, mall security were upon us, all dressed in deep blue uniforms, with tazers at their sides, along with beat sticks, mace, and handcuffs. When they arrived, Frodo did not get into an attack stance, but pulled on a deceivingly charming smile and sauntered up to the head cop, who I recognized as the man in charge of the investigation into my disappearance.

"Is there a problem, officer?" He inquired, his teeth shown fully as the man, his handlebar mustache, a salt-and-pepper color, twitched irritably.  
"Yeah," He replied shortly, towering over the lost hobbit sprite with full authority. "If that isn't Ms. Kirsten Scholtes, then hell, I'm a monkey."  
Frodo merely smiled as he continued.

"And by the distraught look on Ms. Scholtes's face, I reckon you're the one who nabbed her in the first place." When he spoke this, Frodo's smile faltered only the slightest as he replied, "I'm sure you're mistaken: My Kirsten may look like the poor girl on the television, officer, but I can assure you, we met by simple circumstances."  
"Oh yeah? And what might those circumstances, boy?"  
"The Interwebz."

The sheriff's eyebrows rose as he turned and said, "Cuff him."  
At last, Frodo looked worried. As the cops swarmed around him, he began to shout that he was innocent and that this was all just a big misunderstanding. While they tazed him and handcuffed him, the sheriff walked over to me and asked, "Are you Ms. Kirsten Scholtes?"  
I nodded nervously, my heart beating quickly.  
"Thank God," The man sighed with relief. "Your family and friends are worried sick."  
I smiled as he glanced down, and his eyes widened at the sight of my stomach.

"Praise the Lord, you're pregnant, girl!" He cried, and I looked a bit downcast when he spoke it. "He did this to you, didn't he?"  
I nodded, touching my stomach unconsciously. The sheriff looked aghast for a moment, frowned, and then turned to force Frodo down some more: Clearly, the man had zero tolerance for these sorts of things.

And while Frodo shouted and pleaded not to do me any harm, I followed the sheriff to his squad car, in total disbelief that I was going home at last.  
But good things never last, do they?


	9. Interrogation

I was released from the police station a few hours later, exhausted but ecstatic: I explained everything to Sheriff Beauregard (Minus the whole computer universe thing, I knew he'd never believe that), and he looked so relieved that I was alive, telling me that most of these cases do not have happy ending. Either way, I was permitted to go, and was instantly greeted by my family and friends, who all smothered me with hugs and kisses and tears. They were, of course, horrified by the sight of my pregnancy, but there was nothing to do now. I shrugged it off and said I'd raise the baby, and when I said that, my friend told me that as long as that, and I quote, "sick son of a bitch motherfucker" stays away from us, the baby would grow up fine.

_At last, _I thought joyously, as I was led to the car. _I'm home._

**(A/N: The next part of this chapter is from a 3****rd**** person POV. Kirsten will resume narrating in the next chapter)**

Sheriff Donald Beauregard was not a man to smile on the force: A hard working man and celebrated police officer for many years now, he was prone never to crack a smile, especially when working SVU cases.  
When the Scholtes case was brought to him, he already had a gut feeling that this one was going to end in tragedy, and he knew: Most did.  
During his first year as an officer, his niece Norma was raped and put into a coma when she was 16, fiercely unfair for such a sweet teen. The bastard that did it was a chickenshit law man who got away thanks to a rigged trial. Of course, he got busted 3 months later for dealing drugs on the street. But even though he was imprisoned, it didn't do anything to help poor Norma, who finally slipped away 2 weeks after her rapist's arrest. This made Beauregard even angrier at the sick men and women they arrested.

And this was the _creepiest_ one he'd seen so far.  
_"That son of a bitch is smiling, be goddamned if he ain't."_

Entering the interrogation room and taking a seat before his captive, he stared at Frodo, his mustache twitching occasionally as he practically drilled holes into him. This didn't seem to faze the hobbit, he just sat across from him, leaning back in the chair with his feet propped up on the table.

"So," Beauregard snarled lowly, watching as Frodo finally looked up, appearing to acknowledge his existence. "Why kidnap Kirsten Scholtes?"  
"Because she's my queen, officer."  
"Queen?"

"Yes," Frodo replied cheerfully, still wearing a cold but calm smile. "Queen of Middle-Earth AVI, wife of Frodo son of Drogo."  
Beauregard's mustache twitched as the hobbit added, "Plus, soon-to-be mother of a sweet little princess named Thorn."  
"Uh huh," The sheriff sighed, wondering why he even got out of bed this morning. "So what you're saying is that you kidnapped a young, innocent pre-college girl from her apartment after you met her on the Internet, took her God-knows-where, forced her to marry you, raped her multiple times, and are making her have your CHILD?"  
"It wasn't rape," Frodo smiled, giving a crooked grin. "I'll admit, my wife is very submissive in the bedroom, but if that's the way she wants it, then so be it."

"She was screaming for you to stop, to let her go," He groaned, giving Frodo a look of shock and horror. "How could you not think she didn't want anything to do with you?"  
"Please. She does that a lot, I know, but it's only because she's scared!"  
"Scared of you!"  
"No!" Frodo retorted angrily, and to Beauregard's horror, he could see his suspects eyes turn from blue to black in the blink of an eye. And with another blink, it vanished.  
Frodo calmed down. He sat down again, looking plain and simple. "She's probably scared for me," He mumbled, so low Beauregard almost couldn't hear him. "She's probably sitting at her home, rubbing her tummy and wondering what's going to happen."

Beauregard sighed: This guy was an absolute nutjobs, no doubt about it. Believing he was Frodo Baggins, thinking poor Ms. Scholtes, poor, pregnant Ms. Scholtes, actually cared about him in any sort of way, believing he was a king in a world where nothing was wrong to him.

Beauregard left the interrogation room, rubbing his temple furiously as he stormed down the hallway to get a cup of water from the cooler. As he drank, his deputy, George Pearlmutter, came running up in a flurry.  
"What?" Beauregard sighed, as the young deputy took a deep breath from his run. "Sir," He breathed hard, as his official handed him a cup of water. "They found a game in Ms. Scholtes's game box. Says Lord of the Rings on it. We played it, and we saw everything."  
"Everything? Whaddaya mean, everything?"  
"I mean, everything!" Pearly sighed, downing the cup. "When Ms. Scholtes woke up, the wedding, Frodo, well, the guy I mean, forcing her, her being trapped all this time, her getting pregnant, we saw it all!"

Beauregard raised an eyebrow.  
"And that's not all," he continued, still flustered. "This guy has every know picture and video of Ms. Scholtes known to her and her family! Pictures from birth and up!"  
A disgusted look came across the sheriff's face as he growled, "We're dealing with a long-time stalker, Pearly, but he won't get away this time."

**O BOI, SUSPENSE! Hey, everyone, I will be gone from Thursday to, oh, Sunday or Monday this week (Spring Break in Portland, WOOT!), but hopefully, I can get one more chapter up before I go, if laziness and sickness do not contribute. Thanks for reviewing, everybody!**


	10. Away

**I greatly apologize for my prolonged absence, you guys! Portland vacations tend to have that effect on ya, but either way, on with the story!**

Beauregard sighed with frustration and anxiety, as he continued to pour over the immense mounds of paperwork that had flooded his office desk, covering the photos of his family, particularly the one of his lost niece. This time though, he didn't quite mind, for he knew she was watching him from above, knowing he'd be able to convict this son-of-a-bitch who had so tormented this poor woman.

HOW he was going to do it was an absolute different story: There really was absolutely nothing to go on except the fact that the freak in the interrogation chamber was some kind of mad, probably taking some kind of mercury that caused him to believe he was Frodo Baggins, make him think what he was doing was right. But why did Beauregard think he saw his eyes change? Trick of the light, probably.

He watched the footage of "Frodo .EXE" and his new queen, and it seemed so…strange: The tape was a little blurry and fuzzy, but there was no doubt to the sherrif that both Frodo and Kirsten's eyes had been a deep black, red pupils for him, green for her. Why this was so, he couldn't answer. But either way, the footage was terrifying, it'd be horrendous to show in the court room. The jury would probably have heart failure, the judge would be horrified, Kirsten and those close to her would sob, and Frodo…for some reason, Beauregard could see him smiling crookedly at his handiwork, or laughing like a deranged mental patient.

As these thoughts rolled through the officers' mind, a loud crashing sound broke his train of thought, provoking Beauregard to grab his gun and tazer before exiting the room and finding a complete scene of chaos.

Blood. Blood EVERYWHERE. The scene was gruesome, with police officers, some alive or holding on barely, or dead in horrid ways, were everywhere, some lying against the wall, moaning in almost synchronized agony, or others dead, some crushed by filing cabinets, their necks broken with their bones poking out from the skin, one hung from the ceiling, others suffocated underneath the huge cases files.

And there was Frodo, leaving the carnage with a smile, turning to see a petrified Beauregard, who was so shocked by this he didn't even reach for his weapons at the sight of the lost Ringbearer.  
Frodo's skin had become a complete ashen white, his hair a full, rich black, glossy with shine and wet with blood, with a pair of good-sized orange horns protruding from beneath them, his clothes torn and wrecked from bullets and tazer burns, his mouth full of teeth like that of some kind of hellish creatures, like diamonds wrought with crimson, black tears dripping from his dangerously calm eyes, and 4 massive tentacles torn out of his shirt and wavering.

Frodo chuckled, and left Beauregard alone and distraught.

**(KIRSTEN'S POV)  
**I sighed as the victory screen appeared on the television, as I acknowledge my win over Captain Falcon as one of my many master characters, Ness. _Super Smash Bros. Brawl_, a game full of intrigue to me since I was young, I had unlocked just about everything, as far as I knew. No matter, I loved the game all the same. The baby seemed to enjoy it too, whenever I won, I felt a gentle kick, as if she was cheering for her mother's win.

Changing my character to my ultimate character, Meta Knight, and deciding to battle Wario at Spear Pillar, I snuggled deeper into my sofa, enjoying my relaxation time. I knew, of course, that the police would probably call me back when the trial was set, so I had decided to kill time by catching up on my video games. It also was a good way to take out my frustration: I chose Pit once as my punching bag, played as Ness, and beat the crap out of him, seeing as Pit's black outfit bore a resemblance to Frodo.  
It certainly felt good to be home: My friends were just down the hallway, just a holler away, I could live quietly in peace, raise the baby normally.

As the battle ignited, I began to beat the life outta Wario, but as I did so, my TV began to glitch up, making me raise an eyebrow. It looked like when your Pokemon was poisoned, and every step you took made an odd sound, and glitched up the screen. The colors were out for a moment, and holy God, I felt sick as a well-animated Frodo sprite appeared, throwing Wario off the screen and somehow putting Meta Knight to sleep, before turning his attention to me.

A text box appeared as he said,  
"hElL0 dArL!nG. I +h!nK i+ iS +iMe 2 c0m3 h0m3."

I screamed, provoking him to reach out of the TV and pick me up, carefully dragging me through the screen. I wailed as my friends ran in, but they were too late: I was already in, with Frodo pulling me close to his body. He shushed my rageful tears, as various colors whirled around us, plunging us back to Middle-Earth .AVI. 


	11. Parents

**Hey everybody, sorry about my absence: I've been in a bit of funk for a while, since I checked back on the place where I originally posted "FRODO .EXE", which was the Creepypasta Spin-Off Wiki, and found a horde of people insulting both me and my story cruelly. I'm thankful that those of you here on Fanfiction that enjoy my story, and are not cold and rude as those on the Wiki. I thank you all, bless you.**

I didn't speak to Frodo for several months after we came back to Middle-Earth .AVI: I was angry that I had finally come home to my family and friends, and only spent an allotted amount of time with them before HE came back, grabbed me, and stole me back away to this hell I had been unfortunately placed into. As the time went by, Frodo attempted to talk to me, but I simply remained silent, and refused to look at him.

9 months came up, and I had the baby: It doesn't hurt all that bad, the only problem is your demonic husband telling you endlessly to breathe (I punched him in the face when it all came to an end. It didn't faze him).  
And yes, it was a girl, little Thorn Rose Baggins .EXE, who already had her father's hair color and eyes (Except, instead of red, the dots were blue, a sharp cerulean blue like his eyes once were).

From that point on, I had someone to care for while Frodo was away with his work as a king. I didn't have to just stay in my room and mope, I could find some solace in my new daughter, who, in all honesty, was a little bundle of joy. I know it's very cliché for a parent to say that, but it's true: Some of my misery was pushed away when I cared for Thorn, rocking her, singing to her, feeding her, everything. She was an absolute little angel, and there was no doubt she was Daddy's little princess, for every day, when Frodo came home, he'd immediately kiss me, and then coddle Thorn for hours on end.

But a couple of nights later, after putting Thorn to bed in her little crib, Frodo seemed a little…solemn?  
"Here," He said, handing me a cloak, dark blue in color, with the family crest on the back. "You'll need it in the rain," He explained, as he put on his own cloak.  
"I think it's time you met my parents."

I hadn't heard anything about Frodo's parents here in Middle-Earth .AVI: I assumed he had revived them, and they remained at home, visited often by their son. I was a little afraid too, to see what sort of monstrosities they had become.

But no: We went out into the courtyard, walking across the mud-spattered marble as the rain pelted down our backs, around the corner, and to a small haven near the castle. 2 headstones remained on the marble, both reading "PRIMULA BAGGINS" and "DROGO BAGGINS", followed by their dates of birth and death, and "LOVING COUPLE, MOTHER AND FATHER OF FRODO."

"Hi, Mum," Frodo whispered, getting to his knees. "Hi, Dad."  
As he pulled out 2 bundles of flowers, he talked to the headstones, introducing me to them, and saying that soon, he'll bring Thorn down to see them. He asked how it was in the Havens, and soon, he got to his feet and looked at me, crying. But he wasn't crying his black tears, he was crying real, true tears.

"They like you," He told me, taking my hand in his. "They're happy we're together, and look forward to see us all again."  
As we walked back inside, I felt like my heart got torn a little: I may not be with my parents, but at least they're alive and well. Frodo became an orphan when he was 12, and even though he lived with Bilbo all that time, he doesn't forget his parents.  
As we went to bed, I heard Frodo mumble,  
"I hope Thorn never has to suffer the pain I did."


	12. Thorn

**BAAAAHHHHH I HATE WRITERS BLOCK! Which pretty much sums up why this chapter was further delayed, and for that, I apologize to you, dear readers. Blame writers block, school, and other fun stuff like that.**

Things certainly have been hectic here in Middle-Earth .AVI: There's been more than a few Sauron supporters causing riots out on the front lawn, which Frodo and Sam have been able to extinguish to a certain extent, Bilbo's been in some hot water due several women fighting over who slept with him, and my PC crashed when I tried to contact my family back home.

At least there's a little light in my life, in the form of my daughter.

Thorn has been growing very quickly, not uncommon for .EXE children (If you don't believe me, just look at Sam's offspring), seeing as they can choose whichever age they want when they actually turn 33, the coming-of-age for hobbits. Currently, Thorn's only 3, so she has some time between now and then, but she doesn't mind. She's a sweet little thing, looks a lot like Frodo, but I find it very curious that her pupils are ice-blue, just as the real Frodo's eyes are. Perhaps it's some kind of hidden genetics thing? I cannot say.

What I CAN say is that she has just about everyone wrapped around her little fingers, everybody in the kingdom seems to adore our only child: Frodo, an ecstatic parent, loves her like crazy, always digging time out of his schedule to watch a cartoon with her, or teach her how to properly abuse the Orc servants.

First off, the TV. There's a very large screen in the living room near the kitchen, with a projector that can run any movie you want, however, it only runs movies, and we watch those on Friday nights, where we all relax with popcorn and soda and candy, acting as through it's a real theater.  
And then there's the normal-sized TV in the den, just down the hallway from mine and Frodo's room. It's a cozy nook, with many bookshelves, comfy sofas and recliners, a fireplace, and a screen door leading to yet another balcony. I sometimes go into the den to read (All of my favorite books are in there), but usually I don't go in there.

Thorn, however, spends about 70% of her time in that room, lying on the carpet with her plush Tails Doll, watching all sorts of creepypasta-based television shows: _Happy Appy_, _Squidward's Suicide, Red Mist, Saturday Morning Creepypasta, _and of course, the infamous _Candle Cove_.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with creepypasta, CANDLE COVE was supposedly a lost series that ran in the year of '97, around Oregon and Washington. The story of the show was that a little girl named Janice imagined a whole ship called _The Laughingstock_, captained by a pirate named Pirate Percy, who was a poor pirate who was frightened too easily. The odd thing was that only children could see the show, adults only saw static.

Here, however, Frodo, myself, and everyone else can see the show, and while I was not frightened of the concept when I was a teenager, it certainly struck fear into my heart now: Strange images would flash across the screen for split seconds, moans and groans could be heard behind the cabaret music, and of course, the Skin Taker, the shows primary creeper, really made me sick. While the show was poorly made, and the Skin Taker was just a plastic skeleton with some fake eyes, I had thoroughly convinced myself that the cloak and top hat he wore was made from children's flesh. His voice frightened me even more, his teeth gnashing together when he spoke, his voice coming out as a dry rasp. It sort of reminded me of Christopher Lloyd's Rasputin voice in _Anastasia_, but even darker, more twisted and cruel.

Thorn, however, did not mind the Skin Taker, in fact, he, aside from Janice, was her favorite character, with made Frodo promptly go out and buy dolls of Janice and the Skin Taker. I was thankful the skeletal doll did not talk, but it still unnerved me when I saw it lying out in Thorn's bedroom, giving me the creeping sensation that I was being watched.

Secondly, the Orc tormenting: For as long as I've been here, I have known quite well that the servants are nothing shy of abused. Sometimes, I'll go out to the kitchen to get something to eat before going back to my pool of misery, only to see Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry in the living room, laughing as a small, hapless Orc tries desperately to please his masters. Fetching drinks is high on the list of demands, and even when he does his request right, the Orc still gets a crack of the whip from Frodo, causing more laughter from him and his fellows.

Recently, Frodo handed Thorn a big bag of rocks and told her to go throw them at any Orc she sees. Immediately, she took this to heart and dashed off, causing havoc to the monstrosities, knocking over platters, tripping them, bruising them, anything at all. I wanted to say something, but for some reason, I couldn't say a word.

And then it struck.


	13. Down with the Sickness

**I apologize for my brief absence, as I've started another new story entitled "Have Faith", this time in the Legend of Zelda fanfic archive. The first chapter is up, and the 2****nd**** ones coming, so while you wait for that, here's the next chapter for "Mine and Mine Only"!**

Thorn came down with a sickness a few weeks later, becoming completely bedridden from what we all know as the common flu. Clearly, normal diseases are not known in Middle-Earth, which I quickly learned when Frodo called in just about 2 dozen physicians to come in and take a look at our daughter.

The physicians, being accustomed to old-fashioned medicinal practices, pronounced that Thorn would die in a weeks' time. Frodo, upon hearing these words, had a completely reasonable freak-out on the floor, sobbing and screaming and shouting for any god he knew of to save her.  
I couldn't take this train wreck any longer, so I stepped in and spoke with one of the physicians:

"Excuse me, doctor, but it may not be all black and white as it seems to you."  
The doctor stared at me for a moment with a pale, solemn face as he bowed his head.  
"My queen, I'm sorry to say that your daughter is deathly ill, no cure. You should fill out the funeral arrangements."  
A little well of anger began to rise in my chest, hearing him say Thorn had no hope. Furiously, and through gritted teeth, I explained to him, "It's called the flu, and it's a natural sickness, it happens all the time in my world. People don't usually die from it, they just get a little ill, and with some medicine, they'll be fine."

"You mean," Frodo sniffled, his large black and red eyes dripping with black and regular tears. "Our little princess doesn't have to die?"  
"No, Frodo, but if we'd gotten her a flu shot like I told you, we wouldn't be here," I sighed, remembering how I asked Frodo about immunizations in Middle-Earth .AVI. Clearly, it was in one ear and out the other for him, he was too busy playing with a new _Candle Cove _playset with Thorn.

Frodo didn't hear the flu shot part now, as he jumped for joy and roped me into a hug, chest-crushing hug as he picked me up into the air, kissing me and telling me I was brilliant. I sighed, and let him praise me for a while before having him put me down. He kissed me again, and went over to Thorn's bed, where she had been resting for quite some time, but not before glaring at the troop of doctors.

"Sire, we didn't-"  
"Out."  
"Pardon?"  
"OUT. Get out of my daughter's bedroom, out of my castle, and back to your positions! Go on! Go on! Hop to it, you medieval leeches!"  
They all left the castle in a hurry, in order not to infuriate their king anymore. As I watched them leave, I heard Frodo talking to Thorn, telling her she'd be okay. She smiled at him, and hugged him.

I watched this scene with a little bit of heartache: I remember being with my parents when I was a little girl, and how much I love them. Seeing Frodo with Thorn, it seemed almost surreal, to see him in this way. He always appeared to me as a deviant, a murderer, an insane demonic creature who lusts uncontrollably after me.

But then I see him with Thorn, and how much time he takes out of his day to be with her. Before she got sick, there were a few diplomats from other games who wanted to speak with Frodo. You know what he did? He told them to jog on, he was busy. When they asked what was more important than a treaty, he gestured to Thorn, who Frodo had been reading and playing with for quite a while. When he was like this, when he was sweet and good, it was a far cry from what I normally saw.

"So, what shall I get and where shall I get it?" He asked, bringing me off my train of thought. I realized he was right beside me, which startled me, but I didn't show it as I told him, "I think you'll need children's ibuprofen, children's Tylenol, and some cough and sore throat remedy."  
"And where can I find those funny-named objects?"  
I didn't even think of that. I then realized that the only place to actually obtain the meds would have to be my world, which Frodo was still being searched for.

"Your world?" He asked, as if he somehow read my mind. "Well, it's a stretch, but I think I can manage."  
He then smiled at me, as if waiting for something.  
"Don't I get a good luck kiss?"  
"No, you don't."  
"Aww…"  
Groaning, knowing he'd never let up and go if I didn't, I hesitantly leaned up to kiss his cheek, but, in a normal fashion, he kissed my lips instead.

"Ew! Momma! Daddy!" Thorn cried, looking at us sleepily through her tired eyes. Frodo laughed, came over, and kissed her cheek and embracing her in a hug.  
"Daddy's gonna go to Mommy's world to get you some stuff to make you feel better. Do you want me to get you anything else?"

"Does Mommy's world have DVDs?"  
"Yes, they do, baby."  
"Can you find a _Candle Cove _one? My friend Rose told me there's some out there."  
"Okay, I'll find you one," He smiled, kissing her forehead and turning to leave. "Be good for your momma, m'kay?"  
She nodded vigorously, but then lied back down on her pillow from the pain of her head, and while I tended to that, Frodo left for my world to find some medicine for our daughter.


	14. Forget It

**(Frodo .EXE's POV)**

It had been quite a while since I hid my true form and came back to Earth (I had a cap on, and tilted down so no law enforcement could recognize me), and I will NOT go into what happened my search for this "Target" market-shoppe-WHATEVER. I'll just say that it involved 3 banjos, a teleporting porta-potty, a nail gun wielded by a nun, and some greeting cards. Just. Don't. Ask.

Nonetheless, I arrived at the store, recognizing it from Kirsten's description, and immediately charged off to the medicinal section, remembering what Kirsten told me would work: Ibuprofen, Tylenol for children, and cough and sore throat remedy. Yup, got 'em all…  
…Except for that ibuprofen.

Glancing over to my left, I saw the pharmaceutical counter open, with a very bored dark-haired lass sitting there, chewing a piece of bubble gum and gazing off into the distance, she couldn't look any more depressed if she tried.

Oh, yeah. Time to unleash the ol' Baggins charm. Mother always did say that all of the male Bagginses have a specific, unique charm for each of them, one no woman on the planet could resist. I'm not saying I was going to flirt with her, but I could at least take her mind off her job so I could get the medicine for Thorn. Gods, I'm worried. I firmly believe Kirsten's right about this whole flu business, but it sure does get a hobbit wound for sound!  
Either way, I strolled up to the counter, and said in my most regal tone, "Greetings, milady. A good day, is it not?"

"I guess."  
What the Helms Deep?  
"So…I'm guessing you work here, Miss…Bethany?"  
"Just until my college funds get paid off," She shrugged, glancing over as some ragged man in an oversized coat began to shove various medicines in his pockets. While she was mildly distracted, I let one of my 4 tentacles slither down my back and under the counter, searching for the ibuprofen.  
"Was there something, you like, needed?" She asked, and I pulled a grin, pulling my glance away from my tentacle.

"No, no, I was just a little interest about the work you do here. By any chance, do you do bloodletting?"  
"No."  
"Do you have leeches?"  
"No."  
"Herbal medicines and remedies?"  
"Uh, no."

"Holy Valar," I mumbled. "I guess times really do change."  
Oh, Gods, my back was beginning to ache from this stretching my poor tentacle was having to do: I really was hoping I could find that medicine soon…  
Aha!

"Well, it has been lovely to meet you, Ms. Bethany," I smiled, retracting my appendage and catching the medicine. "Maybe I will see you again sometime…(Gods, I hope not…)."

She didn't reply, leaving me to pocket the medicine and head off to the food aisle, where I plucked a can of chicken noodle soup off the shelf. Now, what else was I looking for…?  
Ah! Yes, a CANDLE COVE DVD for Thorn. Even though it is geared towards the younger set, I myself have enjoyed it from time to time, watching it with her sometimes. It has a few morals to the stories, the music is interesting, and, of course, Thorn loves it.

Upon arriving in the electronics section however, I found nothing labeled CANDLE COVE, or anything close to it. Seeing as employee, I nudged him and inquired:  
"Pardon me, my good sir, but by any chance, do you keep CANDLE COVE DVD's in stock?"  
"…What?"  
"CANDLE COVE. It's a cartoon television show."  
"Sorry, never heard of it. Maybe one of the other stores has it."  
"Can you check? I know your computers can search other stores for it."  
"How about I just Google it and see if anything else comes up?" He asked, and I nodded, as the young man tapped the name into the search bar. Only mere seconds later, he turned and gave me a deadpanned look, saying "A horror story? Really?"  
"It is not!" I shouted at him, provoking a handful of stares. "I've seen it before, and my daughter watches it."

"Look, man, if this is a prank-"  
"Ah, for the love of Isiluder…" I growled, facepalming out of pure exhaustion. "Nope, forget it, forget I was even here, I'll just go."

And on that note, I stalked out of the store without another word.

Avoiding the path I took the first time around, I made it back home without a scratch, and immediately went to see how my daughter was faring. I found she was napping, with some unknown stuffed animal besides her Tails Doll. It was a little smaller, looked very fuzzy, and had a leaf eye patch.

"Darling, what is this?" I asked, as Kirsten came into the room, noticing I was back. "Oh, that's just Buck."  
"Buck?"  
"Short for Buckminster!" Thorn cheered, suddenly waking up. "Long for Buh!"  
"I let her watch the 3rd ICE AGE movie," My wife smiled, taking the soup and medicine from me. "She adores that plushie now."  
I sighed again as Kirsten left the room.


End file.
